Chris Redfield In Chicago
by Mrs. Redfield
Summary: This is my version of what happened after the incident in Europe when Jill dies. This is a year and a half after that incident. I do not own any of the characters in Resident Evil, nor do I own the game.
1. Bar Fights

1. Bar Fights

Chris Redfield sat alone on his usual bar stool, holding a vodka bottle loosely and talking gibberish to the bartender. A hazy aroma of alcohol and sweat clouded the large club. Chris had been coming here every night for two years, alone, since the incident, but he didn't want to think about that now.

He looked over to the door to see two teenage boys and their dates walk into the club. Chris smirked slightly at this image; one of the boys was scrawny and weak-looking. _Nervous_, Chris knew. He looked to the other boy. This one was taller and more built, some what like he was like at that age; confident, sure, independent.

The group of four sat down at a table near Chris, ordered drinks, and started talking immediately. _Alright, _Chris thought, _I don't want to be near these kids if they're just going to be chatting the whole time…_ He would have to leave soon, but not the way he'd expect. He got up and started walking towards the exit, smirking as he started to pass the group's table. The bigger of the two boys stood up in front of Chris, puffing up his chest to try to look bigger than Chris (he failed).

"You got a problem with us sitting here, old man?" The boy asked Chris, apparently noticing Chris's quick attempt at departure. Chris just smirked again and tried to walk past the kid. He pushed Chris back, causing Chris to stagger back a little bit; the kid was a _little_ strong. The boy looked toward his table and grinned at the girls, their mouths were hanging open as they gazed, astonished at the ignorance of their adolescent friend, taking on this adult with a _very_ well built body.

"Listen, kid, I don't want to start anything," Chris mumbled. He was amazed that he was able to form a coherent sentence, much less not slur.

"Kid? Who do you think you are, grandpa?" The teen's words didn't have as strong of a conviction as his look had, until Chris laughed. Fuming now, the boy's anger sparked. His friends at the table were smothering laughs of their own. The kid punched Chris square in the face, sending Chris staggering backwards, holding his nose. Chris removed his hand from his face; it was smeared with blood. He had enough of this kid's ignorance.

Chris charged up to this kid. He grabbed the teen's collar and pulled back his right arm. One of the girls at the table screamed and yelled to the boy, "Steve! Duck!" It was too late for Steve, here. Chris had sent him flying into the wall with a punch to the face. The girl who had screamed was the first of the group of four to reach Steve. Everyone in the bar was staring at Chris. Al, the bartender, had hopped over the bar and walked over to Chris, who led him out the door and told Chris that he shouldn't come back until he gets his anger problems fixed. _The nerve of that guy,_ Chris thought drunkenly.

So there Chris was, drunk as a bug, sitting outside of Al's Bar on First Street. The sad part was that he had no house to go home to. He had lost it due to lack of payments on his part because he didn't have a job and he spent all of his available money on alcohol. Then he saw her...


	2. Claire

2. Claire

"Bye, hon. See you at home tonight. I hope you have fun," Leon Kennedy said to his girlfriend of three years, Claire Redfield. Claire kissed Leon goodbye and stepped out of the Ferrari, smiling as Leon drove away. She had always loved Chicago, even if the Umbrella Corp. was based here. Umbrella used to own a building in Chicago, but since their termination, that building has been ironically turned into a hospital.

Walking down Main Street, Claire checked the time on her cell phone; 3:25 a.m. The reason that she was in Chicago so early? She was a morning person, of course, but other than that, she planned on having a long day with her friend, Stephanie, so she wanted to get here, grab a hotel room, and sleep until eight.

Chris shivered as the morning breeze blanketed him in a cool embrace. He knew it had to be at least three in the morning. His nose was still bleeding and he was freezing. Going back inside to the warmth of the bar would just cause him to be thrown out again to the cold. Then he saw her walk up to him. At first all that Chris could see was a blurry image of a girl in red boots, but then that image cleared into his younger sister, Claire. Her usually bright eyes looked at him with an icy blue glare; her crimson hair framed her face and flowed into a neat ponytail.

"C-Claire?" Chris asked in a slurred tone. Claire helped her older brother to his feet and tsked, shaking her head in pity. She stepped back away from him and looked at him, her hands on her hips. His clothes were a little bit dirty, he didn't smell bad, his face was sprinkled in 5-day-old stubble, his hair was messy, and… his nose was bleeding?!?

"Chris! What have you gotten yourself into this time?" Claire asked worriedly, trying to call a cab. Chris slurred a response that sounded something like "don't go making judgments, Claire…"

A white and green taxi pulled up to the curb and Claire loaded her brother into the back right seat and herself into the back seat behind the driver. She told the driver the address for the nearest hotel and tried to keep her brother quiet.

When they finally arrived at the Chicago Inn, - _very creative name for a hotel in Chicago, don't you think?_ - Claire made Chris sit down on a lounge chair and walked up to the receptionist.

"Chicago Inn, how may I be of assistance this morning?" The blonde woman standing behind the counter was obviously bored and tired, noticable behind her smiling facade.

"I just need a room for one, please. I'll be staying for two nights," Claire told the woman, who eyed her suspiciously for a moment.

"Are you sure you need a room for one? I thought you were with that gentleman over there," the receptionist asked pointed out politely.

"He's in heaps of trouble. I haven't seen my brother for over a year, and I find him drunk, sitting alone outside a bar in the cold. He's sleeping on the couch," Claire laughed.

~*~

Chris looked up to the desk when he heard his name mentioned. He just wanted to go to sleep and forget about this whole mess. The receptionist looked over at him and smiled; he groaned and closed his eyes in response.

~*~

"Alright, there you go. Room 407, here's your key," the woman at the desk handed Claire a plastic card and smiled as she turned to her computer and started typing furiously. Claire went over to Chris and dragged him onto the elevator. When they got to a hallway on the 2nd floor, Claire elbowed Chris in the ribs to get him to wake up.

The siblings got to their room and got settled in. Chris really didn't want to have to stay with Claire, not because it was going to be embarrassing to live with his sister, but because he knew that she was going to ask him about _everything_...


	3. The Past Two Years

3. The Past Two Years

"I suppose that you know what I want to ask you," Claire assumed. Chris sat up and wiped his face with his hand.

"I was hoping you wouldn't know I was awake," Chris smiled at Claire; his head was pounding…Chris's smile turned into a grimace. He felt sharp rhythmic pains pumping in his skull. Chris closed his eyes and put his hand on his head. Claire frowned and put a hand on her brother's shoulder and sighed. "You need some aspirin?" Claire asked worriedly.

"No, it's fine… Actually, do you have any ibuprofen?" Chris groaned, slowly opening his lids to the light. Shielding his eyes from the white light searing into his eyes, he forced a weak smile for Claire.

Claire got up and went to the bedroom to search through her bag for anything that might help Chris's obviously painful headache. She was being partially selfish about the situation, though. She wanted Chris's headache to go away so that he could answer the question that she so dreadfully _needed_ the answer to. _What happened since I've last seen you in Antarctica?_

She knew there was probably a lot to tell, but she was his sister, she was allowed to know, right? _Right!_ Claire was always one to be cheery, but… _Antarctica… Steve… Wait! What am I thinking?! He died a great, brave person there, and besides, I'm with Leon right now. I shouldn't be thinking about other guys. Geez, Claire, get a hold of yourself. That was then and this is now. _

"Claire? You alright, back there?" Chris called from the living room.

"Oh. Uh, yeah, I'm fine. I found the ibuprofen, so just sit tight," Claire grabbed a white plastic bottle out of her suitcase and walked back into the living room and laughed when she saw that Chris was fast asleep again, drool running out of the corner of his mouth.

"Huh- what?" Chris woke suddenly with a jolt.

"Wakey, wakey, Sleeping Beauty," Claire mused, poking Chris's cheek playfully.

"Oh, ha ha! Whatever," Chris rolled his eyes and wiped the saliva off his face with his arm. Claire handed Chris two ibuprofen and a glass of water. Chris took them, annoyed and threw the pills into his mouth and then took a huge gulp of water, halfway emptying the glass.

"Geez, Chris. How did you learn to drink that much water at once?" Claire asked, examining the glass and beginning finishing off the rest of the water.

"Training," Chris made a face at his little sister and her feeble attempts to recreate what he had just done. Claire drained the glass and put it in the sink in the kitchen. A wave of pain overcame Claire and she braced herself on the sink. _Steve… why did he have to die out there? It should have been me… if Alexia hadn't injected him with that virus… he's still be here… It should have been me…_Suddenly, Claire burst into tears. She let the inexorable sobs flow out of her chest.

Chris made it over to Claire in no time flat.

"Hey. Hey, what's wrong? Claire? Are you alright?" Chris spun Claire around and she fell right into his chest, blowing the air out of him. Chris hugged his little sister, letting her soak his shirt.

"It should have been me. Steve shouldn't have died that day. It should have been me who was injected with that virus. I should have been the one who died," Claire sobbed into Chris's chest.

"Whoa. Where did _that_ come from?!" Chris squeezed Claire, trying to cheer her up. "Steve died nobly, Claire. Would you rather have had him having you die in his arms? He wouldn't have been able to live with himself. Would you rather have him live with that giant regret, Claire?"

"N-no…" Claire cried. Chris could feel Claire's hot tears on his chest, now. _Poor Claire. She doesn't need this pain._ Chris was always softened when he saw girls cry, especially when it was his sister. "What time is it?" Claire whimpered, her sobs coming less frequently, now.

Chris checked his watch. "Uh, 1:45 pm."

"Oh my gosh! I have to call Stephanie!" Claire pronounced in shock. She loosened out of Chris's embrace and wiped her eyes. Claire walked back into the living room and pulled out her cell phone. She dialed a couple of numbers and then put the phone to her ear.

"Pick up. Pick up. Pick up. Pick up. Pick- Oh! Hey Steph, I just wanted to tell you that I'm kind of tied up right now. Yeah. Yeah. Mhm. Yeah, I _found_ my brother sitting alone in the cold outside of a bar. Yup. Yeah," Claire suddenly burst into laughter. Chris sneered and held his head in his hands; he was sitting on the couch again. "Sure, Steph. Yeah. Okay. Talk to you later. Bye." Claire snapped her tiny silver cell phone shut.

Claire's face suddenly became serious and strained. Chris looked up at her and he jumped back at the intensity of her stare.

"I assume I'm in trouble?" Chris asked innocently.

"No. Not trouble. I just want to know _where the heck_ you've been for the past two years."

"Fine, I'll tell you, but first we have to get something to eat."

"Alright, let's go."

~*~

They sat across from each other at a table in a café, Crimson Lights. Chris had ordered water; he didn't exactly feel like drinking anything strange when talking about such a sensitive subject. Claire had gotten a steaming cup of Earl Grey tea, the only _hot_ drink that she would drink nowadays.

"After we said goodbye at the airport that afternoon that we came back to the U.S. from Antarctica, where did you go?" Claire asked, sipping her tea.

"Back to Raccoon City, of course; that's where S.T.A.R.S. is based. I got to the police station and Jill, Rebecca, Brad, Barry, and Kevin were there."

"So what happened after that?"

"Will you just let me finish?" Chris laughed.

"Sure," Claire rolled her eyes.

"We got together all of our information from the first two mansion incidents and the train; we had no clue about any train until Rebecca informed us on her first mission. We decided that since Dr. James Marcus is dead, now, we had to find his apprentice, Spencer. Spencer and Wesker worked together under Marcus, so to speak. Umbrella hired them as apprentices for Marcus. So we assumed that wherever Spencer was, he knew where Wesker was."

"Didn't Wesker lure your S.T.A.R.S. team into the second mansion?"

"Yes, that was why we were after him in the first place. Second, he was with Umbrella, which we were trying to take down. We later found out that the Spencer Estate was located in Europe, so Jill and I went there to see if Spencer knew where Wesker was. We got to Europe and we found Spencer's Estate; it was on top of a cliff, a cliff that stretched out into the ocean. Jill and I went through the mansion looking for Spencer. There weren't any zombies or infected animals. Not even any B.O.W's. We finally got to some double doors that led into a library facing the ocean, right on the cliff. We went into the room and Wesker was standing in front of the window, his hand dripping. Next to him was an empty wheelchair. Spencer's dead body was lying on the floor; his face was frozen in a state of shock and pain," Chris put his hands on his forehead and stared into the table as he barely choked out the rest. "Wesker was different somehow, but still the same. He was much faster and way stronger than he was in Antarctica. Jill and I tried to fight him, but we were no match for him."

The flashback went through his mind as he told Claire the rest of the story…

_Wesker was stalking towards Chris when he noticed Jill coming from behind him, gun in hand. He threw her against a glass bookcase, shattering the clear window across the floor. Jill knelt on the floor trying to catch her breath. Wesker took Chris by his neck and dragged him across a table, now stained with blood. He held Chris by the throat and spoke the words "let's finish this" and drew back his free arm. _

_"No!" Jill screamed as she ran over to Wesker, forcing him out of the chokehold he had on Chris. Jill kept pushing and then locked her arms around Wesker's gut and charged out the window. They fell inexorably towards the ocean. Chris ran to the window and reached down to the black, icy water covered by a bank of clouds._

_"Jill!!!!" Chris screamed into the silence. He ran as fast as he could out of the house and down to the harbor, hi-jacked a boat and went out to the ocean…_

"Jill's body was never found. She was presumed dead," Chris continued, tears stinging in the back of his eyes.

Claire was crying silently, staring at Chris.

"I came back to the U.S. and tried to live a normal life. When the time for Jill's funeral came around, I arrived after everybody else left. It was getting harder to make it through days, hours even. It came to where every second was like another piece of me getting ripped away. I got fired from my job because I punched a co-worker in the face for asking me to write a report on Jill's death. So I bought a house in Chicago where I thought I could start over. Eventually, it got so bad to where I spent all of my money in that god forsaken bar; I even lost my house due to lack of payment. I think that the only way that I still get through my life is knowing that Jill died the way that she wanted to, helping people. She died that night, but Wesker did, too. And for that, I'm grateful."

Chris looked up and saw Claire crying, so he put a five on the table. He got Claire's phone once they got outside and called Leon. It took two rings for him to answer.

"Hello?" Leon's voice was gruff, as though he had just gotten up.

"Hey, Leon. It's Chris."

"Oh, hey Chris, what's going on? And how come you called from my sister's phone?"

"We… ran into each other in Chicago. I just called to tell you that we're coming. Meet you at the airport in two hours, alright?"

"Sounds good."

"See you then."

"Alright."

"Bye," Chris spoke as he shut the phone and returned it back to Claire; she wasn't crying anymore.

~*~

Once the taxi pulled up to the curb, Chris loaded Claire into the cab and got in, telling the driver to take them to the nearest airport.

They arrived at the airport ten minutes later, nearly dead on their feet.


	4. Stephanie

4. Stephanie

Stephanie Speyer set down her phone on the bedside table in her small apartment. _He _would be disappointed that she didn't get Claire into her custody. Stephanie was so careful about not giving away her employer's name that she didn't even _think_ his name. It was part of her job, never to give away her employer's name. If she did, she would be 'neutralized' for compromising the mission. Her mission? To capture Claire Redfield and use her as bait for her older brother, Chris. Why? Well, that's the mystery…

Her employer, who she knew _Albert_ was his first name- _Oops. I just thought his name… Darn it. _-worked and lived in Africa, though he was an American man. They talked to each other through an online video chat (her employer made a 'deal' with the owners of the video chat site to make it only for the two of them, to which the owner happily agreed to due to the hefty amount of money involved). So to start her mission, she rented a room in a hotel that she knew Claire would go to. She was in the room right next to the one which Claire rented (she tipped the receptionist off that she needed to give a Ms. Claire Redfield the room next to hers or something might just 'happen').

~.~

"Oh my gosh!!" Claire exclaimed loudly at the airport while she and Chris were sitting down. They were waiting for the plane to touch down so they could board and go to Leon and Claire's house in Providence, Rhode Island.

"What?" Chris replied groggily, still tired despite his escapade earlier this morning. Claire looked at Chris with a shocked expression.

"I left my wallet at the hotel!!" Claire shook her brother's shoulders as though it were the end of the world.

"Okay, okay. Calm down, alright? I'll take a taxi and go get it real quick."

"Geez, Chris. You're a life saver," Claire breathed as Chris got up and exited the airport. He called a taxi and hopped in the back seat, handing the driver a twenty automatically; he told the driver to go to the hotel.

~*~

Chris got to the hotel and walked up to the receptionist, she looked as bored as ever.

"Welcome back. Need something?" The receptionist asked rudely.

"Uh, actually yeah. Can I get the room key to room… 407 again?"

The receptionist looked up and saw Chris's face for the very first time. As if caught off guard, she just sat there, staring at him, frozen in her seat. Chris cleared his throat.

"Oh. Uh, yeah; here it is," she stammered as she handed him the key.

"Thanks. So, I'm going to go get my sister's wallet that she forgot here, that's why I needed the key."

"Okay. Need anything else while you're… around?" The receptionist purred.

"Nope, that'll be it," Chris replied with no change in tone. He pressed the up button on the elevator and waited there for a couple of minutes, thinking about why Claire had to pick _now_ to leave her wallet somewhere.

"The elevator's out," the receptionist (whose name we now know is Cynthia) announced in Chris's direction.

"Oh, uh… thanks. I guess I'll just use the stairs."

"You're welcome," Cynthia responded softly, batting her eyelashes rapidly to look… cute? Anyways… At that, Chris shook his head and headed for the stairs. The rhythmic sound of his steps against the solid oak stairs was a comforting sound; one that somehow lessened Chris's stress for the time being. When he got to the door for room 407, he heard talking in the next room. It sounded like a girl was talking on her phone…

Chris wasn't eavesdropping… he was just _overhearing 'accidentally'. _He went over to the door and pressed his ear to it.

"…Well, yes. Yes… I already– no. She left early. I didn't get to her in time. Yes. He was here. He left with her. Yes. They're gone. No. You're making this more difficult than it needs to be, Albert."

Chris's hand immediately flicked to where his holster would be. _Albert…No, no… it can't be. Wesker died that night. He can't be…Wait! What am I thinking?! There are bound to be more than one Albert on Earth… Geez, Chris, you're ridiculous. _

Chris stood up straight, shook himself out of that pretentious insecurity and went into the hotel room he was in just hours before.


End file.
